


My Boy

by Trainedinkarate



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur is confused, John x Arthur is very one sided, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possible Spoilers later on, Rating May Change, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-02-27 16:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18742486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trainedinkarate/pseuds/Trainedinkarate
Summary: Icy fingers gripped his arm in the darkness causing the tall man to whip around. Eyes doing the best they could to find any sense in the moon lit scenery placed before him. Panic flooded Arthur’s systems bringing his slender fingers to his gun within milliseconds only for it to not be there. The thick hairs along the gunslinger’s arms prickled at the realisation. Where was he and where the hell was his gun?





	My Boy

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by the song Oh Klahoma by Jack Stauber.  
> aka it played on repeat while I was writing.
> 
> So uhhhh this is the first fanfiction that I'm uploading to this site. I hope it's not too horrific. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Icy fingers gripped his arm in the darkness causing the tall man to whip around. Eyes doing the best they could to find any sense in the moon lit scenery placed before him. Panic flooded Arthur’s systems bringing his slender fingers to his gun within milliseconds only for it to not be there. The thick hairs along the gunslinger’s arms prickled at the realisation. Where was he and where the hell was his gun?

“Dutch?” He cried out a little too desperate for his liking. Arthur was never one to plead and whine let alone cry out but, in this moment, well he found himself lost in an uncanny valley. The raw reality of the situation was brought back to him making him interrogate his surroundings. There was a chilling wind that nipped at his frame bringing the fact he was only half dressed to his attention. Where was his clothing and why was he crying for Dutch?

The chill was back, worse now, fingers curling and burning into his skin. The sensation bringing a brutal howl to rip from his throat. Looking down to realise nothing was gripping him the panic only settled in worse. Parting his lips to grunt out another noise he was affectedly silenced by a sudden pressure. Warmth quickly flooded the cowboy’s scenes. Eyes fluttering closed and body relaxing all in turn as the panic retreated from his mind. Confusion instead wriggled its way into the gap in Arthur’s thoughts. A shrill cry rang out in the back of Arthur’s mind, yet he found himself ignoring it.

The gripping on his arms lessened and slowly slid to hold onto his shoulders. The situation slowly revealing itself to Arthur as he drew realisation to the familiarity. He’d felt this before. Snapping his eyes open left the sandy blonde frozen as he was faced with reality. Dutch who he had only moments ago been calling out for was up close and personal in ways that made Arthur’s mind spin. The pressure and warmth was none other than the body of his leader and mentor pushing against him, lips attacking his own.

There was a pause in everything before suddenly he was ripped away from everything, from the chilling grip, from the moonlight, from Dutch, from the kiss.

Sitting up in his cot panting heavily Arthur glanced around the room, four walls and a roof, just like when he had fallen asleep. After a quick glance around and a check under his pillow, the man concluded he was safe. Sitting up slowly he huffed at the loud knocking that filled his ears. John’s gruff voice entering the room before his body. “Get up you lazy sack of shit.” His mind was whirling but the pull of John’s voice brought him back to reality. “And what do I owe the pleasure of little Johnny’s presence to?” Arthur grumbled as he sat up slowly, blonde hair tousled from sleep. The sight made John’s heart skip a beat and red to creep across his face like vines over an abandoned building. “Dutch wants you.” That was all that was exchanged between the two before John was gone, the echo of Arthur’s door shutting the only evidence that John was once there.

Complaining under his breath Arthur pulled at his sweat drenched union suit, changing into his usual gunslinger outfit before giving some attempt to tame his wild hair. Arthur stood for a minute, just staring at his reflection in the cracked and dust infected mirror. A frown etched into his face as his eyes unfocused before focusing again. Signing softly the cowboy pulled himself along, finding Dutch by the fountain out front of the run-down old house they were currently held up in.

“Dutch.” The sound came out much more confused than Arthur would have liked but he went along with it. Relaxing gradually under Dutch’s presence. Something that he couldn’t put into words was Dutch’s presence. Calming yet an air of danger to it. It was like swimming in a cold lake in the middle of summer, relaxing and needed with the added reminder that drowning was a very real possibility. Dutch turned slowly to look at the younger outlaw, a light spreading across his features as he removed the cigar from between his lips to grin at Arthur. “My boy. What a delight. Only mildly late.” That voice, it filled Arthur’s mind and rendered him breathless and weak at the knees.

It hadn’t always been like this. Hell, it hadn’t been this bad yesterday. Arthur had fallen it seems. Nothing graceful or elegant like a cat leaping from a height. No, this was a sudden fall. A trip over the edge of a cliff leaving him helpless. Tumbling rapidly towards the earth, heart on the line and dignity gone. The sinking dread weighing his stomach down leaving him wanting to turn tail and run somewhere safe. The calming presence of Dutch now causing panic and unease. The hairs along the outlaw’s arms standing on edge, ready to flee at any sudden movement. What love did to a cowboy was cruel.

Love. Is that what it was? No, it was more of a fixation. A longing formed over years of admiring. This couldn’t be love. No, love wasn’t this. Love was supposed to be warm and sweet, like a flower freshly blooming. Not chilling and suffocating, bringing a sense of panic and dread. Maybe it was love, maybe the dread was fear. Fear of messing up in front of Dutch. Fear of losing the object of his desires. It was all so confusing. What was he to do? More pressing, what was he to say now? Dutch’s lips had been moving and Arthur was too far gone in his mind, missing the whole sentence. God he was a mess.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this first chapter was so short. I was tired as hell while writing this and it's late so I can't be bothered to add more. I want to get this out and get your guy's thoughts on this before I continue on further writing. 
> 
> So let me know what you think, any feedback is appreciated :)


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